


Accidentally

by Liz2010



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Relationship, College, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liz2010/pseuds/Liz2010
Summary: "College is made for shitty beer and bad choices."Morgan grabbed his hand and squeezing, making him look up, “I’m not a bad choice am I?”Stiles loves his boyfriend and his pack, but they are miles away while he is stuck at Stanford. When he tries to make a new friend it doesn't exactly go as planned.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 358





	Accidentally

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I own nothing and not beta read. All mistakes are mine. Let me know if any additional tags are needed and enjoy!

“Fuck,” Stiles cursed as he made yet another left turn. 

He was pretty sure he had seen that particular drive-through before. No, he had definitely driven past here before. He recognized the missing lights on the garish sign.

Fuck. He was lost, going in circles in Palo Alto. He was stuck on streets he wasn’t comfortable with, with far more traffic than he was used too. The tall buildings were messing with his GPS and he had no idea where he was. 

He was twitchy and nervous, his fingers drumming on the wheel as he scanned the building’s fronts, looking for the name of the bar he was going to. 

He should text Morgan and let her know that he was going to be late but he had no place to pull over and he didn’t want to text and drive. He settled for going around the block yet again, trying to find the bar where they were supposed to meet. 

He was glad to have meet Morgan, a perky girl from his literature class. They had been partnered together for a group project and had exchanged numbers to work on the paper. Turns out, they like a lot of the same thing, even had the same type of sarcastic humor and ended up texting a lot, daily in fact. 

She liked the same kind of hazelnut coffee, and Stiles told her about the best shop in town, an independent little coffee place down on 5th. Stiles had discovered it Lydia, the only other pack member at Stanford, but she had quickly gotten too busy to leave campus for coffee with him. Or return his texts or phone calls. Basically, he was about as lonely as he had ever been and he fucking hated it. 

One day shortly after their project was turned in, he had run into Morgan there. They had talked for a long time, gossiping about their stuffy professors. They started meeting for coffee most days, before the rest of the town was up and about, when it was only the two of them. 

She was nice and kind, if a little eccentric, but then again so was Stiles. She liked superhero movies and comics almost as much as he did, giving them plenty to talk about. They laughed together, more than he had laughed since starting school.

It was so nice to have a friend. Not to mention that with Morgan came her own group of friends, who were nice enough to hang around with, even if they tolerated him more than liked him. They weren’t pack, but they would do. For now, they helped to fill the gaping hole in his chest.

He missed the pack. He missed them so much it hurt. He missed his dad, and Melissa. He missed his friends. He missed his boyfriend. But when he and Lydia both made it into Stanford, they couldn't say no.

The first year of college was always a hard adjustment for everyone. But apparently it was even harder for a werewolf pack, due to the need to be close, to smell and hear the others all the time. None of the wolves even made it out of the county. 

Scott and Boyd were both taking their general courses to a local state school an hour from home, commuting rather than staying on campus. Erica was going to community college, trying to get caught up on all the courses she missed while suffering from her epilepsy. Isaac was taking a gap year, running his father’s gravedigger business, while deciding if he wanted to keep it. 

Allison was the only other one far from home, having chosen to purse her archery in a rather less violent way then hunting. She was training in Salt Lake City- a shoe in for the next Olympics. But she had a flexible enough schedule she could see the pack often, easing the separation. 

Lydia and Stiles made it home far less often. Both had a heavy class load and Stiles worked a part time job on campus, making it difficult to take the time off to come home. They skyped the others, called and texted all the same but it wasn’t the same. 

The pack had really come together the last few years of high school, become more that acquaintances who struggled just to stay alive. The pups learned control, Lydia too, and managing to use their gifts, instead of letting the gifts use them. They managed to work together, to be a team, a pack. It didn’t hurt that as the pack stabilized, so did the territory until only the bravest monsters dared to enter it.

Gradually time spent begrudging fighting whatever monster was passing through Beacon Hills, became time spent watching movies or go get food. Late night calls for help became calls to just hang out, until they were a group of best friends, instead of strangers trying to stay alive. 

And Derek, Derek learned how to be an alpha. Not all at once, of course. But as the pack learned to be patient, to rely on each other, Derek learned to trust himself and to trust his pack. 

Granted he was still grumpy and frown, quick to anger and slow to actually talk about his feeling. But that was why Stiles loved him.

And man, did Stiles love him. Derek had kept him at arm’s length for a long time. Later, after they got together, he would admit that he was afraid of falling in love again, of getting hurt again. 

But slowly, after late nights of staying late to clean up after pack night, after early morning of research, they came together. Slowly, so damn slowly, they became friends, until they were something more, until they were each other’s first call when the nightmares came, when their heads became so dark they couldn’t get out of it alone. 

Derek had kissed Stiles the day he graduated. There had been a party, at the newly build Hale house, where the whole pack had celebrated extensively. 

Derek had taken him outside away from the noise, to the dark of the trees, shinning under the moon. He had told Stiles it could stop here, that they never had to talk about it again. Then he kissed him, so soft and sweet.

They had been together ever since. They had a wonderful summer. Not a single monster came through, so they plenty of time to get to know each other. Biblically speaking, that is. 

And speak of the devil, Stiles’ phone light up with Derek’s name. Stiles accepted the call, putting it on speaker so he could keep his hands on the wheel. 

“Hey babe. Did you get rid of the troll? Is everyone alright? Did the UV lights work to turn them to stone? I can do more research, come down this weekend if I need to. Midterms can’t be that hard to get ready for and besides, ”

“Yes, the troll is gone and yes. Everyone is fine and you don’t need to come home. We can actual function without you, believe it or not.” Derek interrupted rudely and Stiles frowned. 

Derek sounded tired and grumpier than usual. It had been a lot on him, trying to keep the pack bounds steady and kept the territory safe with only half his pack available. The trolls, stupid fucking trolls of all things, had been keeping him busy, destroying houses after house as they moved through the territory. Luckily no one had been killed yet, but it was only a matter of time. 

“What are you up to? How are classes?”

Classes were hard, but Stiles wasn’t in the mood to complain about them. There wasn’t anything Derek could do to make them any easier. 

“Fine. I’m driving downtown to meet Morgan at a bar. Apparently it’s a cool little place, very hipster. It’s open mic night. It’s going to be awful- I can’t wait.”

Derek snorted, amused by his boyfriend, then after a pause where Stiles made yet another left turn because the bar had to be somewhere damn it, the sound of a throat clearing.

“Morgan? Who’s that?”

“Yeah, Morgan. Intro to Lit Morgan, my partner who helped me get an A even though our group sucked. Morgan who likes the same kind of coffee as me. Morgan who like Marvel movies and who had in fact seen Star Wars, thank you very much Scott. We hang out all the time, you know this. I’ve told you this.”

“I know, you're right. I’m sorry.”

There was a long silence where Stiles stomach squirmed. He hated this. He hated how he couldn’t see Derek’s face and see how he was really feeling. Just like he knew Derek hated how he couldn’t see Stiles, couldn’t smell his scents, to feel him hear his heartbeat and know he was alright. 

Stiles sighed, running a hand over his face before silently fist pumping as he finally spotted the bar. He pulled into a parking spot on the road not too far from the bar. 

“Look Derek, I’m not mad. I know I ramble a lot, and it’s hard to remember everything I say.”

“I love your rambling,” Derek said, sounding truly sorry. “I should listen more.”

“I know you have a lot going on. I just.”

There was a sudden crash and what sounded like Isaac yelling that the head troll had a mate and she was pissed. “I have to go.”

“I just miss you.” Stiles said to an empty dial tone. 

\-------  
The bar was crowded when Stiles walked in, people pressed tight tighter. He thought he saw a flash of strawberry blond hair that belonged to a certain banshee, but before he could investigate, he spotted Morgan and detoured to her. She had managed to get a two-person table, waving at him with a grin when she saw him coming over. He walked over, returning the hug when she stood up to give him one. She was always so wonderfully tactile. It reminded him of the wolves at home.

“I got you a drink,” Morgan said, taking a swig of her own as she gestured at the full bottle on the table, never mind that Stiles wasn’t technically old enough to drink.

Stiles took a swig, ignoring the voice in his head that sounded a lot like Derek warning him not to drink anything that he didn’t see opened, that lots of creatures could be going after a human pack member. He sputtered slightly, unused to the taste of cheap beer and Morgan laughed. 

“Get used to it Stilinski. College is made for shitty beer and bad choices.”

“I can see that. Clearly I’m in the middle of that now.” Stiles squinted trying to read the label. 

Morgan grabbed his hand and squeezing, making him look up, “I’m not a bad choice am I?”

Stiles hesitated. He liked being friends with her, he really did. But he worried if he was putting her in danger simply by talking to her. If he should cut if off before she got hurt.

Morgan’s face fell, but before Stiles could come up with some bullshit to calm her down, the mic squealed, and a rather breathy soprano took the stage, belting out show tunes at the top of her lungs. 

The rest of the night went well. Most of the acts were decent and the drinks were cheap. Stiles only had one more, knowing he had to drive back to his apartment. He ordered some wings, which he offered to share. Morgan declined, making a face at the spicy chicken. Stiles once again felt a wave of loneliness, knowing that if Derek was there, half of them would have been gone in a second. 

He texted Lydia between acts, hoping that she really had been the redhead he saw when he walked in. He hadn’t hung out with her in forever, despite being on the same campus. They were both busy and spending time together had fallen by the wayside. 

He could use a pack member and a hug, maybe even a sleepover at her place to get out his own head. Once he had gotten over his crush, which he had pretty much the day he saw Derek without his shirt on, he and Lydia had found out they were amazing friends. Both smart and sassy, and good at comforting each other when the wolves just didn’t understand how they felt. And Stiles could use some comfort. 

Morgan had more to drink than Stiles, pounding down several beers. She got drunk quickly, swaying and singing along with the music, cheering the acts on. It made Stiles smile, but he simply wasn’t in the mood to stay out. He asked her to leave well before midnight, glad when she agreed as he didn’t want to leave a drunk girl out alone. She ordered an Uber before he could offer her a ride home, but that was fine with him. Stiles just wanted to leave.

They stood outside waiting on her ride. Stiles looked up at the night sky, wishing he could see the stars like he could at home. Morgan leaned on him swaying and talking about how lucky she was he was a gentleman. 

Stiles didn’t say anything. Just held her up and waited on her ride. It finally came and he poured her into the back seat, accepting the wet sloppy kiss on the cheek with grace, though he wiped it off as soon as she was gone, feeling a little like he had been marked without his permission. 

He drove back to his apartment wishing he had a roommate, someone to talk to. He had managed to swing an on-campus apartment despite being a freshman, thanks to some financial help from Derek, who claimed he was only doing it so he could come over anytime. Stiles had let him pay for the place, but nothing else. He wasn’t going to let Derek pay for his school, even thought he had offered to pay for everyone in the pack’s. Stilinski’s paid their own way.

Besides, according to Lydia he wasn’t missing anything by not staying at the dorms. Though on nights like tonight he wished he was. He wanted the annoying roommate, the noise of parties and the weird smells that always came from having too many boys together. Anything to keep him from feeling the hollowed-out spaces that not having Derek in his bed made him feel. 

He went to bed as soon as he got in and brushed his teeth, too tired to stay up. But once he laid down, he couldn’t settle. He turned on the TV just for noise, putting on a movie he had seen a million times before, pulling up a computer game too, to keep his mind busy. 

He texted Morgan to make sure she made it back to her apartment safely. She had, if the massive influx of texts saying come over were anything to go by. He ignored them.

He texted Derek too, a simple goodnight. He didn’t hear anything back, but then again, if Derek was dealing with pack business, he didn’t expect too. 

Lydia did finally text him back a few hours later, saying she had been at the bar but had left early due to the crowd. She also insisted they have breakfast tomorrow, annoyingly early considering it was Friday night and Saturdays were for sleeping in. 

Stiles agreed. He would pretty much do anything for her, even wake up before noon. 

\------  
He did wake up before noon. And considering he didn’t fall asleep until sunrise; he wasn’t exactly perky. So, he was a little less that his normal happy go lucky self when Lydia let herself into his apartment with the set of keys he had made everyone in the pack. 

She swept in with attitude, looking perfectly put together despite the early hour, hands on her hips and tapping her heel as she looked Stiles up and down with a shitty look on her face. 

Stiles scratched his stomach through his ragged sleep shirt that he stole from Derek months ago. He ran a hand over his hair, trying to smooth it and chase the look off her face. 

“What?” He spat finally, feeling a lot like the high school freshman that Lydia would actively scoff at like the shit on her shoes, and getting defensive. 

“Are you cheating on Derek?”

Stiles jaw dropped. 

“Uh no.” He stammered. “No way. Never. Why would you even say that?”

Lydia’s face softened, but she still looked defensive as fuck. “Who were you at the bar with then?”

“Morgan! Morgan from Intro to Lit. Why does everyone act like they don’t know her? I talk about her all the time. It’s not my fault no one pays attention.”

“Does Derek now about her?”

“Of course! I told him all literally as soon as I managed to make a friend. I remember because I told him how nice it was to have coffee with someone who actually shows up.”

Lydia winced at the little dig, but didn’t defend herself. 

“And,” He continued, truly hurt she could think he would do something so awful. “I called him last night and told him we were hanging out. Don’t for a fucking second I’m keeping secrets or hiding anything from my boyfriend. All of which you would know if you ever answered my texts.”

“I’m sorry.” Lydia shrugged, looking mildly guilty, which Stiles knew meant she felt terrible. Even now, after everything they had gone through, she still kept her walls up, never showing how she truly felt. “Guess we haven’t talked much lately.”

That was true, for both of them. Lydia was taking an overload of classes, trying to fast track her doctorate. Stiles was busy with work, and Morgan too, he supposed. She actually picked up her phone, after all. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, not quite willing to apologize after her accusation. 

Lydia tossed her hair, mind apparently made up. “Well that stops now. Get dressed. We’re going out for brunch, then we will stay in, watch stupid movies and catch up.”

\------  
Stiles felt much better after his day with Lydia. Less empty and hollow. More able to get through the next week of studying and tests. 

He studied all day Sunday, pausing only to text Derek, who had finally gotten the troll problem under control and had time to talk again. They didn’t talk about anything important, but it was nice to bicker and tease like usual. 

But once he and Derek said good night, Lydia’s assumption that he and Morgan had been together, like together together, at the bar bugged him. It bugged him like an inch, making him twitchier and more distracted than usual as he tried to go to sleep. 

And it didn’t go away Monday during classes, or Tuesday, when he was supposed to meet Morgan for coffee before class. 

Lyds refused to say exactly why she thought they were a couple, only that they had ‘looked cozy’. That wasn’t enough to work with. Kittens were cozy. Fluffy blankets were cozy. 

He worried who else might have made the same assumption. He knew his own friends hadn’t noticed, except Lydia, but they spent a lot less time with him at college. They had only been up to visit a few times, busy adjusting to their own lives after high school. 

He worried what Morgan’s friend might think the same thing. He wondered if they teased her, made her feel bad for ‘dating’ the spaz that was always tagging along, thinking he was wanted, was part of the group. 

He would set them straight the next time they all hung out in a group. It might be embarrassing for him and what little pride he had, but it was the right thing to do. 

He decided to bring it up with Morgan over coffee, getting to the shop early and buying both their drinks. He chugged his down, hoping the caffeine would help him feel more focused. He waited impatiently fingers tapping and knee jiggling up and down. 

“Hey!” Morgan came in with a smile, like always, pleased to find her drink already for her, running a hand over his as she took it from him. 

“So I wanted to talk to you,” Stiles started, looking everywhere but her face. 

“Yeah me too. I wondered if you wanted to go to The Firefly next weekend.”

Stiles made a face. “Yeah sure, but it’s that kinda fancy. Are we more pizza and hot wings kind of people?”

She shrugged. “Maybe a little. But it’s our one-month anniversary, I want it to be special.”

Stiles' mind came to a screeching stop.

“Anniversary?”

“Yeah, of our first date.”

Stiles waited on the punchline, on her to laugh but it didn’t come. “What are you talking about?”

Morgan blushed, but she sounded upset. “One month ago, you asked me out for coffee.Well, you told me where your get coffee, but you were there so close enough. I get it if you think it’s stupid to celebrate such a little bit of time together, but just say no. You don’t have to be a jerk.”

“You think we’re dating? Because I asked you out for coffee?”

Morgan made a duh face, looking pissed off.

Stiles was flabbergasted, more stunned than he had ever been, and he had a best friend who regularly turned into a werewolf. 

They weren’t dating. Sure, they had coffee and texted, and went out to a few movies with her friends, but that wasn’t dating. 

Dating was soft looks when the other wasn’t looking, whispers in the dark, kisses that left him wanting more. It was comforting touches and considerate gestures, like getting someone their own apartment so the pack could come over anytime and be as wolfy as they want without having to worry. It was taking care of an entire territory and being exhausted from battling trolls but still making time to text, because he knows his boyfriends misses him. 

It wasn’t this. 

“Morgan. We aren’t dating.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Of course, we are.”

“This isn’t dating. This is just hanging out.”

Rage was written on every inch of her face, hands clenched into fists. 

“So this whole thing doesn’t mean anything to you. I’m just what, a possession, a pretty face to have on your arm? Someone to have at your beck and call because no one else is.”

Stiles was still confused, feeling more and more sick to his stomach. He never meant to lead anyone one and would never treat anyone like that. “No. I mean, I would never do that to you. I just don't feel like that with you. I mean, for God’s sake, we haven’t even kissed.”

“Because you’re sensitive!”

“I’m really not.”

“You are such a dick. Fuck! I should have known. All my friends told me you would have made a move by now, if you weren’t you were getting some on the side. And now you’re dropping me like I’m fucking trash.”

She knew about Derek. He had talked about Derek as his boyfriend. How the actual fuck was this happening? 

“Fuck off Stiles” She stood up. “Lose my fucking number asshole.”

She left in a rage, ignoring the cheers and calls of ‘you go girl’ that followed her out. Stiles simply fled. 

\------  
Stiles spend the rest of the day in a daze, simultaneously sick to his stomach and so flustered he couldn’t function. He went to class and apparently took notes, but he couldn’t remember any of it. 

He went home, wanting so fucking badly to call Derek, but his finger hovered over the call button. 

He didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. He wanted it to be in person, where Derek could hear his heart, smell his emotions and know he wasn’t lying about never meaning to date Morgan. 

He had never wanted more to skip class and go home. But his dad had worked hard to be able to afford to send him to school at a prestigious college. Plus it was midterms this week and he needed to keep up his grades to keep his scholarship. He wasn’t about to throw everything away because he was a stupid little shit. 

So he stayed at school, studied his ass off and went to work at his job at the school library. 

He refused to call his boyfriend, worried Derek would hear the guilt in his voice and try to figure out why. Stiles made himself stick to short texts, refusing to talk about anything important. Which was surprisingly difficult, as Lydia had went and blabbed to the whole pack about how Stiles was feeling alone. He was constantly bombarded by well-meaning, but every so annoying how are you doing texts, from everyone all week long. 

It was exactly what he wanted a week ago, but now, it was terrible. 

He couldn’t didn’t sleep, plague by dreams like he hadn’t been for years. He mainline coffee like it was crack to stay awake, because he still had work and school but his stomach always hurt and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. 

He actually had a panic attack on Thursday while on the phone with Scott, the only person he would pick up the phone for, because if he didn’t, Scott was bound to tell his dad. 

They had chatted for a bit, until his friend asked how he managed to do a long-distance relationship, undoubtedly looking for advice for how to deal with his and Allison’s distance, when all Stiles’ guilt hit him all at once. He broke down. 

Scott was treated to the sound of his best friend dry sobbing into the phone while doing his best to hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness. It freaked Scott out enough to call Lydia, who came over, which led to actual tears and mindless rambling about what a bad person he was. It was a mess. 

Lydia stayed over the rest of the week, keeping him calm, though he refused to tell her why he was hyped up until he talked to Derek. 

When the weekend finally came, Stiles planned on driving down to Beacon Hills early Saturday morning, just as soon as the sun was up, telling Lydia not to bother staying over since he was leaving so early. He poured his coffee into a travel mug, grabbed his phone and a granola bar, and took off.

But when he climbed into the jeep, it wouldn’t start, the dead battery light flashing. 

He didn’t have anyone to call for a jump. He was forced to call AAA, and since he wasn’t an emergency, he would have to wait for nearly five hours before someone got there. He hung up on the receptionist with a heartfelt fuck you that he immediately regretted because she was just doing her job, before walking back to his apartment from the parking garage in defeat. He was worn down to the bone, wrung out in every way possible. If a few tears made their way out of his eyes while he trudged home, there was no one there to tell. 

He was going to have to simply talk to Derek on the phone and pray he believed him. 

He opened his apartment door with his phone in hand, ready to call, but instead jumped as he became aware of the werewolf sitting on his couch, looking every bit as worn out as Stiles felt. 

“Thank God,” Derek said, launching himself at Stiles and wrapping him in hug. “I tried and tried to call all night before I gave up and came over. I drove all night. Then I got here, and you weren’t anywhere. Lydia didn’t know where you had gone. I was about to call your dad.”

Stiles stood stiff in his boyfriend’s arms. Fuck. Stiles had been ignoring his calls, afraid to pick up. He never thought that it might make Derek worry, at least not enough for him to show up here. 

“Scott told me about the panic attack, said it was a bad one and he didn’t know what set you off. Lydia said you were alright, but you wouldn't answer my calls and I was worried.”

“Sorry.”

Derek pulled back; brow furrowed even deeper. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? You smell wrong.”

Stiles managed a small smile. Derek still had no idea how humans worked, never knowing what injuries were bad and which ones were nothing. He thought everything from a cold to the flu needed a doctor. It was adorable and made Stiles feel loved. 

“I’m not sick. I just.” Stiles took a deep breath and prayed this wasn’t this last time he saw his boyfriends beautiful face. “I accidentally dated someone. Someone who wasn’t you.”

Derek’s eyebrows rocketed to his forehead. 

“It wasn’t on purpose. I swear it wasn’t Derek. Morgan, you know Morgan, she was nice to me. I thought we were friends. I asked her for out for coffee, then she took me to a movie with her friends, then we had coffee a lot of times, cause Lydia couldn’t and I wanted someone to talk to. Plus we went out to a bar last weekend, and apparently those were all dates. She thought we were together, and I swear I didn’t mean to lead her on. I would never. I didn’t mean to cheat, I swear, I love you , I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Stiles’ voice had gotten louder and faster as he went on, growing frantic at Derek’s too calm face. He didn’t like it when Derek was calm. He didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Breathe Stiles.”

He didn’t realize he had stopped. He took a gasping breathe then another, letting Derek lead him to the couch to sit. 

“Let me ask you something, did you do anything with Morgan that you wouldn't have done with Erica or Lydia.”

“No.”

“Did you promise her anything more in the future?”

“No.”

“Did you sleep together?”

“No! We didn’t even kiss. I swear, we”

Derek cut him off, his expression tender. “Stiles I believe you. And not just because I can hear your heart. I know you would never do anything to hurt me.”

He wiped away the single tear that slid down Stiles’ face. “Is this what you have been so worried about, why you wouldn’t talk to me? Is this. Is this why you had the panic attack?”

Stiles nodded. “She thought we had been dating for a month. A month Derek. But I talked about you all the time. I don’t know what she thought. I just, I don’t understand how she could think that.”

Derek signed, putting on what Stiles like to call his alpha face. “Stiles, you’re part of a pack. You’re used to touching and scenting, to constantly being in someone else’s space. But to someone who isn’t used to it, it can look flirty or affectionate.”

“So, it’s my fault? I shouldn’t ever try to make friends with anyone because the pack broke me for normal relationships?”

Derek pulled him tight against his strong chest, laughing lightly. “No. It’s not your fault. She shouldn’t have assumed, especially since she knew about me. Maybe she was lonely too and red too much into it. Maybe she was sheltered in high school and truly though that was what a relationship is. Maybe she is just crazy. No matter what, you shouldn’t give up on making friends. That’s one of the reasons you chose to go to school away from Beacon Hills-to make friends besides pack.”

“Still.” Stiles pouted for a bit, until Derek pressed a soft kiss to his lips, distracting him. 

“I promise I’m not mad.”

Stiles was torn between feeling so much better, and needing to sleep for a week, the relief exhausting him as much as the stress. “It just. The whole thing is so ridiculous, looking back.”

Derek kissed him again. “How about we go out for breakfast, show the whole town that you belong to me. And I to you.”

Derek’s eyes glowed red, the possessive nature of an alpha showing through. 

“Sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, this is very loosely based of my real life. In school, I dated a boy without realizing it for about a week (technically cheating though I had no idea what was going on and nothing really happened.) I was very naive but at least it made for a good story years later.


End file.
